The Meaning of Sin
by Xazz
Summary: Altair should not have these feelings. It is a sin to love another man. -oneshot-


Altair peered across the table from behind his book at Malik. It wasn't hard to do since the other was totally engrossed in his own reading and every now and then made a particular note on a piece of paper next to him. He looked up and behind him quickly when someone cleared their throat right behind him. His eyes met the eyes of his instructor which weren't amused or impressed and he quickly ducked down again staring at his book but not actually reading, rather he was listening for his instructor to leave, which they did after a few seconds.

"Do your work Altair," Malik called quietly across the library table eyes still glued to his book like a good pupil, not even looking up to tell him off.

"I was doing nothing wrong," Altair hissed back quiet also not looking up though to not to was hard. Yes, he was doing nothing wrong, he was just looking at Malik while the other wasn't paying attention, nothing strange about that. He allowed his eyes to move and look upward to find Malik doing the same.

"Do your work or we'll both get in trouble," he whispered and his eyes went back down to his book.

"Yes," he muttered and sat back dropping his book into his lap with a soft sigh. He was not good at reading though, it involved sitting still and even at his age Altair was not the best at staying still unless it involved a game or practice. Malik had tried and failed to get him to enjoy reading when they'd been younger but it was simply that Altair didn't have the attention for it and was easily distracted. Like now and after he'd read the same paragraph several times without reading it he looked up at the sound of Malik's scratching quill, not being fool enough to move his head and give himself away again though.

He liked Malik, he was his friend, one of the few he had, for not many wanted to be friends with the quiet and perfect favorite of Master Al-Mualim. Most thought he was stuck up and callous and cold and thought he was better than them and so didn't socialize with them. There was also that unpleasant rumor concerning him and when all the novices had had to take swimming lessons years ago and why he couldn't swim. He wasn't like how the rumors made him to be though, he admitted he was quiet but that was because people unnerved him, and he did not know how to speak with people because it seemed like everything that came out of his mouth was stupid. Or at least that's how it seemed when he spoke with the Master and nothing he ever said came out right. He also knew he wasn't as smart as some of his brothers and didn't want to sound stupid, especially with his reputation of being possibly one of the most skilled up coming assassins the Order had ever produced. He couldn't afford to look stupid.

Malik knew that though, and that was why Altair liked him, probably more than he should, more than was morally right too as well. He bit his lower lip and looked back down at his book finally reading the next few paragraphs with only a little difficulty. In the back of his mind though he wasn't thinking about the text but of everything else really, anything but the dull text on history and one of the many wars between ancient Greek city-states that he did not care about in the slightest. He tapped his fingers on paper absently rereading the last line of the paragraph endlessly.

"Stop that," a boy next to him hissed, leaning over to nudge him in the ribs. Altair ceased his drumming before his eyes left the page again and found Malik across the table again. He was wearing his hood down like so many of his fellows were and Altair could see his messy array of black hair that always got messier after he'd been wearing his hood all day. Altair knew he'd get a hair cut soon which was a shame he thought since he liked Malik's hair like that, sort of ruffled and messy and Altair just wanted to run his finge-

He shoved his eyes down at his book angrily. He wasn't to have these thoughts. They were bad thoughts, filthy and went against everything he believed. Malik was his friend, his one really good friend and he wasn't going to ruin their friendship by thinking sinful and disgusting things about him.

—

The clashing of swords and steel was music to Altair's ears as he watched several of his brothers practicing in one of the yards. Official lessons for the novices had ended hours ago and unless they had better things to do most were holed up in the library or their dorms to study or to rest before dinner. For the full brothers however like Altair the time between the last lessons and maghrib was time for them to get in their own practice and hone their own skills since the practice areas were not crowded with novices. He knew that if he looked up now he'd see more than a few heads sticking out from the open windows watching the white robed assassins do their own practice.

But his eyes were not looking for novices. His eyes were just for a single pair who were training nearby; trading sword slaps, jibs and more than a few healthy insults. Altair was painfully aware of the elder's sword style, a style that bested him time and again as he lived up to his name and birth right as King of Swords, the other's was still a bit clumsy but was growing into the same graceful pattern of his brother's style. Kadar was one of the few novices training at this time, a small gray dot amid a sea of white and red as he traded blows with his brother, Malik.

It had been several years since Malik and himself had worn those same gray robes as the younger man. It had also been some time since he could have called Malik a good friend. Al Mualim always told him having friends, feelings, any relations made one weak, that it clouded an assassin's judgement and led to mistakes, accidents and even death on a mission. He'd known Altair and Malik had been friends, very good friends, and for that purpose had instructed his star pupil to stay away from the King of Swords. Still there were times like this when the Master was occupied and before the maghrib that Altair could stand here in the periphery and watch without being noticed.

It was times like these that Altair lived for. When there was no training, no missions to bother him and no Master to fix him with his one-eyed gaze, one sharper than an eagle's because he sometimes wished to do things different than the Master wished. He frowned as he watched Malik and Kadar spar wishing he could spar with Malik again, but he wasn't permitted to anymore, all the Master's rules. He didn't like that Altair always lost to Malik even if sometimes Altair did throw the match, he just wanted to see the great big smile on Malik's face when he stood over or in front of Altair, his sword pressed against his throat. He didn't mind losing if he got to see Malik smile since it happened so rarely. It was because he lost so often that he wasn't allowed though. The Master knew he threw some of his matches with Malik and he didn't like that since Altair was supposed to be the best, no, he _was_ the best and he wasn't allowed to lose, or so the Master said. So he snuck away when he could to see Malik even if the other didn't always see him. Thank Allah for that too!

He looked up when from inside the fortress he could hear the imam calling that it was time for maghrib, the sunset prayer. As he walked out and onto the great stairwell that overlooked the practice yards, voice echoing off the tall walls and fortress behind him, the assassins quickly put away their swords and other weapons. Distantly Altair could make out the faint calls of another imam down the mountain in the village his own calls mimicking the one in the fortress like an echo. Altair quickly followed his brothers, ducking his head and hoping to not be noticed.

"Altair!" he cringed when he heard Malik call him. There was no way he could pretend not to hear either, he knew Malik would just be that much more obvious about it if he did not at least stop. So he stopped.

"Hello Malik," he said glad his hood was up to hide his eyes as they scoured over Malik's white robed body. He was close enough to smell and smelled like leather, wet linen and sweat, Altair pushed away the notions. "Kadar," he added as if it was an after thought.

"Hello Altair," Kadar said breathlessly his admiration obvious in the way he looked at Altair with those strange blue eyes of his.

"Pray with us brother," Malik said to Altair and Altair was in no position to argue. "I have not seen you lately Altair," he added as they walked into the fortress, following their brothers as they made for the liwa.

"Busy," was his quiet answer hardly able to take his eyes off Malik. It had been so long since he'd been this close to the other man. He could still remember the teen he had been though all he saw was the man he was now. There was no denying that Malik was a handsome man once he'd finally grown into ears that had always seemed a bit to big for his head. He had a strong and proud nose and sharp eyes that were so dark they were practically black. His shoulders were wide and muscular from climbing and his hands- Altair got distracted by the idea. Poor Malik had been like a puppy when he'd been growing up, all elbows, knees and had hands that seemed to big for him. Now though they were perfect on him, large, strong and yet gentle enough to practice one of his passions of drawing and cartography. Altair was about to think of the other things Malik could do with those hands but he shunned the thought and chided himself, he wasn't to have such thoughts.

"Yes, of course," Malik rolled his eyes as they entered the delicatly arched room of the liwa. It was a simple, if large, place of worship and everyone crowded inside, the calls of the imam ringing through the halls back to them. Malik sat next to Kadar beside one of the thin pillars that held up the roof and second floor and Altair was compelled to sit on his other side as he tucked his legs up under himself. "Always busy, it would not kill you to practice with me once and a while, like we used to, you know," he scolded.

"Sorry," he ducked his head as someone sat on his other side and Altair peered at him from under his hood. It was a Dai and he was ignoring the younger men, instead focused on the brother next to him. "I will try," he shifted his gaze to look at Malik again not knowing how much water a promise from him could hold. Malik just gave him a leery look before looking away when the imam's calls finally drifted away and he entered the front of the liwa to guide everyone through prayer.

Altair shifted uncomfortably where he kneeled as if he could feel Allah staring right at the top of his head. He wasn't terribly religious, most of the brothers weren't, but they believed in a heaven that awaited them; a gift from Allah for their work of purging their land of those who sought to conquer and rape it for her beauty and take their spoils back to their frozen lands in the north. He rocked forward till the slight beak of his hood brushed the stone floor and his lips moved with the prayer to Allah before rocking back and sitting on his heels. It repeated and each time Altair's lips moved less till they were still and he pressed them against the floor wishing for Allah's forgiveness and understanding of his sins. He could not be responsible for these feelings when he had no control over them could he? They simply came unbidden despite his own efforts to ignore them and wish their existence away. He did not want them for they brought nothing but distraction to him and his mission to rid the Holy Land of the infidels from the west with their demanding personalities, expecting everyone to bow down before them. Or even better be trodden under their boot.

Altair rose for the last time, sitting back on his heels one more, his lips cold from the contact with the floor and listened without listening as the imam spoke. He could feel Malik sitting next to him, back strait and listening intently to the words spoken by the holy man who was imparting his wisdom unto them. Alway curious Malik was, he'd read so many books and Altair knew he knew the Qu'ran by heart. He sighed where he sat his mind and eyes wandering under the safety of his hood and with a slight shift of his head he could see Malik from a bit more than the corner of his eye. He'd come to terms that it was fine if he just looked, after all looking wasn't a sin. Allah gave him eyes after all, so what else could he do with them but look at what He'd created. So Altair allowed himself to look, though was careful to do little beyond that, hardly daring to even think of it for he shouldn't and he didn't want to be seen as so weak as to fall prey to these desires that he had no place for.

Altair was both saddened and grateful when the imam finally stopped speaking and bid them all good night and good health. There was a thunder of cloth and leather as brothers of gray, white and black got to their feet leaving through the three exits to go about their business or perhaps find an early dinner. Altair left as quickly as he could, slipping past the Dai next to him without disturbing him. It was only when he was almost at the exit that he heard Malik call out his name wondering where he'd gone. Altair however didn't look back.

—

This was a grateful respite. The Master had been asked away to speak with Saladin. Neither men of course trusted each other so Al Mualim had taken several Master Assassins with him. He'd left Altair at Masyaf though, for he was not a Master Assassin, gifted though he was, and the Master had said that you do not show your entire hand to the enemy. That had confused Altair since he didn't think Saladin was the enemy, he was a fellow Muslim and defended the Holy Land fiercely. How was he the enemy?

He decided not to think on it though, the Master always had his reasons for doing things and he was always right. Who was he to question the Master besides? He was just a tool, he knew that much, a tool for God to strike against the infidels who came from the west to destroy them.

"There you are!" he almost fell off the ledge he'd been sitting on as the familiar voice struck him. He twisted quickly on his perch; Malik.

"What are you doing here?" he asked confused as to why Malik was here.

"Looking for you," he said, Altair just furrowed his brow. Why would Malik be looking for him?

"How did you find me?"

"Rauf told me."

"Rauf knows too much for his own good," Altair growled. Malik just grinned and any anger he had melted. He loved when Malik looked pleased, in any form, even if it wasn't as him or because he was being an idiot, for any reason really. He just wanted to see Malik smile and he'd done a few stupid things as a novice to see it since they came so rarely. He cared not to think about what those things were since looking back they were terribly embarrassing, not that he regretted it of course, they were just embarrassing.

"You promised you would practice with me again," he reminded him.

"Oh, right," Altair said making a awkward face. He'd forgotten about that.

"Come on then," Malik came over and grabbed him by the shoulder, "Like old times," he offered a reassuring smile to Altair.

"Okay," he said and turned around so he could get off the ledge.

"Did you forget your promise?" Malik asked as they walked.

"No," he lied, "The Master has just been keeping me busy," more lies, Al Mualim had told Altair to not go near Malik because he said their friendship made Altair weak. Thankfully he didn't know how right he was. Malik did make Altair weak. Unbelievably, unbearably weak and made him do things he shouldn't and want things he had no right in wanting.

"Truly?" Malik asked, "Missions?"

"Yes," he said softly.

"Perhaps you could ask the Master if we could go on a mission together."

Altair ducked his head as they left the high balcony and entered the fortress knowing he'd ask no such thing, that he wouldn't even hint to the Master that Malik had even suggested it. Al Mualim already saw Malik as a poison to him and he did not need to give him any more reason to think that. "I will, I doubt he will consent though, you should not get your hopes up," he said.

"Why is that?" Malik asked.

"I work better alone," Altair said.

Malik snorted, "Tell me you have not become so cocky that you think you can do everything yourself Altair? You know such pride is a sin," and Altair stopped dead for a moment swallowing around his throat. "Altair?" he asked curiously turning around.

Altair gave his head a little shake, "Nothing," he muttered, "I only repeat what the Master says. That is all," he said stumbling a bit over his words.

"I see, I meant no disrespect brother, you know that right?" Malik said.

"Ah… yes," he said.

"I merely meant that everyone could use help sometimes, that's all," Malik shrugged.

The words jumped out before he could stop them and he regretted them immediately, "I do not need help."

Malik gave him an incredulous look, that had been the wrong thing to say. "Everyone needs help Altair," he growled. "For no one is perfect, not even you. I would be glad to demonstrate out on the practice field if you wish for you have never bested me in a sword fight."

"I think I will pass this time brother," Altair said glancing down. He did not want to fight Malik when the other man was angry. Mentally he kicked himself for being so stupid. He should have watched his mouth and thought before speaking, things he was incredibly good at usually now though was totally escaping him. He always minded his words since he always sounded like an idiot.

"Why?"

"I do not wish to fight you when you are angry," he said truthfully.

Malik gave a barking laugh, "Afraid you will lose faster Altair?"

Altair bit back his retort. "No, I simply do not wish it," he said once he trusted himself.

Malik scowled at him, "Forget it then," he said and then turned and left without another word. Altair sighed and pressed a hand up to his face to rub the bridge of his nose. He always ruined everything.

—

Outside the fortress it was hot, and in the middle of the day it was better to retreat inside to escape the sun. That was what Altair was doing. It was mid afternoon and the tail end of summer and too hot to do anything except find some shade and do whatever you had to do to stay cooler than the surrounding air in the sun. He was heading towards his room. He had one to himself because the Master said so, even if he didn't mind sharing, if anything he would have preferred it. It would have meant he wasn't alone. Sweat trickled down his neck and spine, his body humming with spent energy from helping an instructor with some of the much younger novices who still had trouble holding one of the heavier practice swords, let alone swing it properly.

His thoughts were elsewhere as he walked and thus was taken by surprise when another white figure stepped in front of him. "Malik," he said coming to a dead halt a few feet away and swallowed. He had not seen Malik since their last 'discussion' that had ended with Malik annoyed and Altair wishing he'd never even spoken.

"You are a hard man to get a hold of brother," Malik told him, standing before him without any hint of dislike or agitation.

"I am a busy man," Altair said carefully.

"Yes, many missions and you even help the instructors," he smiled softly. "How kind of you," and there was no mocking in his voice. From anyone else it would have been patronizing, but from Malik it was sincere.

"What can I do for you?" Altair asked as Malik took a few steps towards him and Altair took a few back, his feet moving without thinking. The Master said to stay away from Malik, and Altair kept his distance even without his say.

"What's the matter brother?" Malik asked frowning and brow furrowed curiously.

"Nothing," Altair said, the lie easy on his tongue.

"It is not nothing. You are actively avoiding me Altair," he said crossly and moved forward with speed and grabbed Altair's arm before he could effectively slip away. "Is it about our last meeting? If so I apologize, you know my temper gets away from me at times," he said. Altair shook his head, that wasn't why he avoided Malik. "What than? You can tell me brother," Malik said gently.

He swallowed, "I do not deserve you calling me brother Malik," he said, a truth this time. Someone like Altair had no place being of any importance to Malik, not when he felt the way he felt about him despite not wanting to.

"What?" Malik's brow creased in a frown. "Don't say such nonsense," he said other hand clasping his shoulder, "You are my brother just as all the others are my brothers and they yours," and he squeezed Altair's shoulder. "Now tell me, what is wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied, always with the lies. Then he bit his lips, "The Master says I'm to stay away from you," he finally admitted.

He saw the hurt surprise on Malik's face, "He does? Why?"

"He doesn't like that I lose to you," that was the truth.

"I hardly see that as a reason for us to be apart," Malik said in an annoyed voice, obviously not impressed with the reason or the Master. "We used to be close, I do not think the Master should say on who you may or may not be friends with."

The next words leapt out of his mouth before he had any time to stop them, "I do not want to be your friend," and instantly he regretted them. They were true though, he did not want to be Malik's friend, he wanted to be _more_, but Malik could never know that.

"Because you have so many others," he said, his words like a knife, "Is that it Altair?"

"I... no I did not mean it like that I just-

"What then? Please explain this to me Altair since I wish to be your friend but clearly you are making that desire difficult."

"I— you should not be friends with a person like me Malik," he said, saying what he had to but not what he wanted to. He wanted to tell Malik that he did want his company; his company, his compassion and even his affection. He knew he would never have it though, it could not be because they were both men and to do such things was sin beyond words.

"You mean an arrogant ass with so much fluff in his head it could come out his ears?" Malik demanded. "Because that is all I see, or perhaps you keep something else under your robes, some other guise that does not suit this world," and the words cut deep. Altair swallowed knowing that Malik was only harsh because he was being stupid, as usual. He could never do anything right, no matter how hard he tried someone always thought him a failure, something lesser that was not worthy of them. The Master told him that emotion made one weak, that it infected your body and made you rot from the inside and affected your judgement. The only feeling someone should have was loyalty. He didn't know where Altair kept his compassion, a trait he'd been trying to stamp out of Altair for years now, and it was why he wasn't permitted to be near Malik. The Master didn't know how deeply he felt for Malik, only that he was a distraction, and he hoped the old man never would. And now here he was, given a chance to connect with Malik again and he was ruining it, like he did everything else.

"No, not because of that," Altair said in a volume just above a whisper. He didn't know what to do, he didn't understand what Malik wanted from him since he knew they could never go back to how they had been. There was too much time between then and now. The Master had taken it from them and his religious beliefs were like a shackle on his ankle, keeping him at the end of a short chain.

"Than what, pray tell, is it?" Malik snapped at him. "You make excuses to me and even when I offer you olive branches by the fist full you shove them back into my face. Do you hate me Altair, is that it?" No, no no no, the opposite, the absolute opposite. "Because if you do simply say so and I won't bother you again. It is better than being ignored by one of my brothers who clearly wants noth-

Altair had juster wanted him to shut up. To just stop with his harsh words and let him say something to smooth over the harsh edge in the situation. He accomplished that, but in a way he wasn't expecting, even from himself. He was beyond shocked that he would do this, that some part of him even thought a good idea. But then, if Malik was going to hate him (which he obviously would), he was going to make sure Malik hated him for the right reason and not just some stupid made up reason the black haired man had thought up.

He kissed Malik.

He stopped almost immediately and quickly stepped away from Malik. The next thing out of his mouth were apologies, "I'm sorry Malik I did not mean— please pretend it never happened, I did not mean to offend or to insi-

The last word was lost as all at once his lips and mouth were occupied by something frightening and wonderful. Malik had grabbed him by the front of his robes, pulled him close, and had planted his lips firmly against Altair's. "I will pretend no such thing," Malik breathed against his lips when they broke their kiss and Altair felt like his head was spinning. He knew for a fact that his knees were weak because Malik's grip on him tightened when he seemed to tip backwards. No sooner did Malik speak those words then thy were once again kissing and Altair was sure he was drowning. That was the only way he could describe the overwhelming feeling of Malik's lips against his and the warmth and presence of his body so near they were almost touching. Altair was always afraid of drowning, but this was the one time he wouldn't mind loosing himself in a bottomless abyss, so long as Malik was there and-

He pushed Malik away. Part of him would have gladly continued and become lost in the other man. But a more rational mind ruled his body in place of his emotions. "We should not be doing this," he said swallowing thickly and trying to move away, to leave, to be somewhere that didn't permeate with their sin.

"Do not leave," Malik grabbed his arm again and he found himself unable and unwilling to shake Malik off. "Why do you say that?"

"We are men. It is wrong," Altair said softly in an almost terrified voice as though Allah was looking down on him at that moment and judging him. "To even think such things is a sin."

"There is no sin in this," Malik said and the bewilderment on Altair's face was enough to make Malik explain. "Allah is perfect and all knowing, is he not?" Altair nodded dumbly, "So why would he make us so seemingly imperfect by giving us these feelings where everything else He created is perfect?" he challenged.

"Man is not perfect," Altair said, "They are flawed. Some more than others. The Qur'an says such things are not allowed."

He was confused by Malik's chuckle, "The Qur'an also says to not kill our fellow man? Or not to eat pork? Or what of not partaking in alcohol? Or to not have sex before marriage?" Altair had no reply. "We are Assassins Altair and though we may follow the will of Allah are we not taught one thing that allows us to do what we must to get what we need?"

"Nothing is true-

"And everything is permitted," Malik said and it was then that Altair realized how close Malik had suddenly become, practically pressed against him. Bodies fitting together despite their robes and armor separating them. He glanced down as he felt pressure along his forearm and saw Malik tracing the familiar designs on his left vambrace. A ludicrous thought jumped into Altair's mind that he wanted Malik to trace those designs on his skin, to mar his flesh with ink with just fingertips. "It gives us the permission to do as we must to ensure the safety of the Holy Land, to keep her safe from the infidels and traitors who would enslave and rape her for their own gain."

"A sin is still sin Malik. Allah sees all and he punishes those who disobey him. This cannot happen again. I- I wont allow it," and he forced himself to move to attempt to leave. The gentle hand on his wrist suddenly tightened and kept him pinned.

"You are stupid Altair," he hissed.

"Thank you for reminding me of my faults, I can always turn to you for such things," he growled.

"Why do you follow something so devoutly that makes you so unhappy?" he demanded.

"It is the word of Allah."

"It is the word of man," Malik spat and the shock showed on Altair's face. "Man wrote the Qur'an Altair, you must know this."

"Allah told Muhammad what his will was and it was set to paper," Altair said.

"And what makes you think the man who wrote the will of Allah and of Muhammad did not change what he wanted?"

"What would be the point of such an enterprise?"

"_Control_," Malik said in a soft voice, the word slithering from between his lips like something viscus, alive, and poisonous. "To control the minds and souls of men. And what is our duty in this land Altair?"

"To bring peace, and allow everyone the choice of what they believe," he felt like he was back in lessons as a novice.

"So what do you believe?" Malik asked.

"That Allah is great-

"And was not that great as well?" Malik asked after silencing him with a brief and heated kiss that left Altair tongue tied. He nodded dumbly. "You may believe whatever you want Altair, just as I do."

"What do you believe Malik?" he finally was able to whisper.

"That Allah does not love me any more or less than any other, that if he made me to have such feelings than I am not to question His judgement," Malik said.

"I... " Malik raised his brows at him as he tried to speak. "I do not know what to think," he finally admitted. "You-

"I," Malik said as Altair trailed off his voice losing will as it left his mouth.

"How do you always do this to me?" Malik lifted his brows, a curiosity this time, he didn't know what Altair meant. "You always know how to confuse me Malik, and always know my weaknesses," he said just above a whisper. "The Master tells me to stay away because you make me weak."

Malik smirked, almost as in delight, "I am flattered that I could make the great Altair weak," he informed him. Before Altair could speak again Malik kissed him, a gentle thing like the brush of sand on skin, but it still left his speechless. Malik grinned now, amused that he had such power over him with something so small. "I could get used to such reactions," Malik informed him.

His words snapped Altair back into perspective. He said nothing as his brain pounded out all his thoughts on the head of an anvil to try and make sense of them. Altair wanted Malik, and apparently the feeling was mutual, was perhaps the last thing he expected from Malik. He expected Malik to hate him, it almost would have made it easier if he had since then he could have continued his pining in silence. That wasn't how it turned out though, for here he was with Malik close and unwilling to let him go for what to him felt like the second time. Malik claimed that what they felt was nothing to be ashamed of. How did one suddenly feel nothing for something he'd been raised to think otherwise?

Altair didn't have an answer. He was not a philosophical sort, he was not a great thinker, nor did he put more weight into words over action. He was a man of motion and of doing. One of blood and death and violence and the things that mothers hid from their children about the world. Things Altair had always known himself while others dulled their vision and didn't want to see.

He leaned back, away from Malik, surprised when the man didn't reach for him, but then found his back against the wall. He'd been outwitted by Malik again and backed up against a wall both literally and figuratively and he knew he was going no where until he told Malik either he wanted him or he would rather they forget each others existence. Malik seemed to read his mind, hear that thought process, for he grinned knowingly.

They, he and Malik and all their brothers, did things others would find intolerable, would find brutal and obscene. Children were beaten, even starved, if they did not perform or misbehaved. Altair had already lost count of the number of men who's blood he had spilled on his hands and on his blade and he was only a year past twenty now. Most would be appalled by that knowledge. He'd killed them in cold blood too, not to protect his family or his people, mostly because they were between him and his target. Was that not also a sin? It was, he knew that. To take the life of another was a sin against Allah but he killed willingly in His name at the orders of his Master. He had no control over it anymore, he went where he was supposed to go and struck without mercy like an angel, a soldier of Allah, only fit to smite those who had gained the sort of attention required to be marked and eliminated. Was this not the same as this other sin then? Altair could not control these feelings, not even if he tried, nor would he ask to for he felt that if he did then the last piece of him tied to something more important than the purpose of killing would be gone. With them gone he would be nothing better than a toy soldier sent to war.

He already lived in sin it seemed. Not that he felt as such, for it was the only life he knew, but indeed it was sin. What he wanted to do was sin as well though even if it felt more right than anything the Master made him do. Perhaps that was the meaning of all sins, something so abnormal from a persons normal understanding of the world. If that was all it was then... then he could live with this for perhaps one day it would not be such a sin to be attracted to whoever you wanted.

"Altair?" Malik asked softly, for Altair had been quiet for some time now. Malik got the surprise this time when Altair kissed him, a kiss with lips and tongue and heat and the grasp of his hands on the front of Malik's robes. "I take it that is your decision?" Malik grinned and if only for that Altair knew he'd -finally- done something right. If he got Malik to smile than everything was worth it.

"There is no sin in this," Altair repeated the words Malik had said at the start of all of this. They were touched with unease still but Altair believed those words almost as much as the Creed.

"There is not," Malik agreed and kissed him again, pressing him to the wall, body flush against Altair's. One of his hands delved into his hood and held the back of his neck, the other was at his waist, his touch firm. Again Altair felt himself slowly drowning, becoming lost in the other man's being. His nearness was simply intoxicating and he would do whatever he had to, whatever was required, to keep this. In this moment time was meaningless and he lost track of how long they stayed there, lips the only part of skin that was touching but yet more intimate and passionate than any time he'd been with a woman.

After what seemed like forever they parted and were able to catch their breaths which came out a bit ragged. Malik pressed his forehead against Altair's. "We should continue this elsewhere," he said so softly that if he had not been so close Altair wouldn't have heard him at all.

"Yes," Altair agreed since he didn't want to stop. Malik grinned at him and pulled him off the wall. Altair didn't ask when he planned on taking them, he didn't really care so long as he didn't have to be alone anymore, never again. He promised himself then that he'd never let anything else come between Altair and what he wanted even if he shouldn't want it. Not Allah, not the Master, not even himself. There was nothing good to be had from keeping what you wanted locked up, for there was no such thing as sin.

-fin-


End file.
